Yogatta Be Kidding Me!
by StarvingWriterMaeve
Summary: HIATUS: Hega's been required to attend three months of yoga. And you'll never believe who her instructor is.
1. Prologue

**A/N:** I've actually begun practicing yoga at a local studio, and during the final pose of the class ( _shavasana_ ) I became _enlightened_. With this story idea.

* * *

 **Yogatta Be Kidding Me!**

 **Prologue**

* * *

Helga was used to therapists, doctors, and any other adult with an ounce of authority over her claiming they _knew what was best._ Ever since she was young, and had to attend school mandated therapy in sixth grade after she not-so-accidentally shoved Thaddues "Curly" Stevens down the stairs and he injured his wrist. It wasn't broken or anything like that, just a small bruise on his bone. He milked the attention though, wearing a brace to school and having all of the girls who hated him just two years prior fawning over him. So really, it was a win-win for Curly. He had the attention of many of the P.S. 118 ladies and didn't have to participate in any physical activity for four weeks.

But Principal Wartz did not see things that way.

Fortunately, she was sent Dr. Bliss, who had offically established her own private practice in Hillwood, focusing on children and adolescents in the inner-city. Dr. Bliss wanted to show children who struggled in school, who acted out out of neglect, who feared their home lives, that there was always a comforatble space available. Most chlidren who entered through the doors of the red brick, two-story home-turned-office were greeted with a warmth previously unknown.

The receptionist, Mary, always dressed in bright, happy colors with equally bright, albeit silly, jewlery. She crafted her own out of items found at dollar stores or in random strangers pockets. She had made her own dice earrings, as well as a statement necklace out of miniature dinosaurs. She smiled and knew every person by name. She also had patients mark their birthday on her personal desk calendar, and on their next vist, they would recieve a handmade card. Helga had received seven, tucked away into the back of her desk drawer for safety.

In the winter, the lobby was decorated with paper snowflakes and a low fire kept the entire building comfortable. In the summer, the windows stayed open and fresh air and flowers filled the rooms. There was an old master bedroom on the second floor that was converted into a homework spot, complete with a miniature library.

Helga regularly visited Dr. Bliss until she was eighteen. Despite making large leaps and bounds in terms of progress, Helga still kept her guard up around her family and friends. Her neglect continued from her parents, who had almost forgotten about a college tuition check and almost lost Helga her spot at Hillwood University. But, after three fights about it, Big Bob finally cut the check and Helga hand-delivered it to the school's business office.

But now Helga was finding herself back in HU Dean Anderson's office for the third time in two months. She was beginning to notice the small changes he'd make between her visits. A new photograph of his family appeared beside his school-provided desktop. His clock was always three minutes fast and he never opened his office windows after 8:30 a.m. His along-the-wall bookshelves were filled with academic journals and books about psychology. He was proudly balding, which Helga found difficiult to ignore-his receeding hairline was hard not to stare at.

"I don't understand what is wrong, Helga. You told me you had been adjusting better to dorm life," he sighed wearily, leaning back in his worn leather chair.

"It wasn't my fault!"

He raised his glasses and the report filed by her college dorm room advisor. "Helga is continually harrassing the other girls on her floor with pranks, causing them to feel unsafe in their own bedrooms."

"It was just one harmless prank," Helga said. "I've been pranked tons of times by the football players on my hall, but no one's giving them infractions!" That was actually a lie. The football players had arrived into the common room drunk and disorderly before flipping all of the furniture over, including the couch Helga was sitting on while her roommate had sex with a fratnerity brother from their Spanish class. She then had to watch in horror as a linebacker dropped his pants and urinated on the communal vending machines.

"I will handle them if I recieve a report on my desk, but until then, Miss Pataki, I have yours. I will be discussing with your RA, academic advisor, and the college counselors what they advise is our best course of action. I do not want to end up removing you from the school. You are an incredibly talented and intelligent girl, and I want you to succeed."

Helga felt a twinge of guilt in her heart, remembering her last session with Dr. Bliss. She had said, "You are so bright, Helga, you always have been. Don't lose your focus or your academic scholarships because things feel overwhelming. Don't forget about what practiices I've taught you for dealing with these emotions."

So pranking the caddy girls on her floor by filling their drawers with glitter, smoke, and cherry popper bombs wasn't the smartest idea Helga ever had. But she did enjoy it for a brief minute.

"We will give you a call with our decision. Until then, keep to your studies and your self, please."

Helga nodded, picking up her messenger bag and letting the office door click shut behind her.


	2. Sun Salutation

**Yogatta Be Kidding Me!**

 **Chapter One: Sun Salutation**

* * *

The _surya namaskar,_ or sun salutation, is a standard beginning of yoga practice. It involves twelve steps centered around breathing and is usually repeated a few times before beginning the class with the eternal sound of the _Om_.

* * *

"No freaking way!"

Dean Anderson was grateful this was over the phone and not face-to-face. He had seen the way Helga's shoulders tensed under accusations and how percing her glare could become. "Yes, Miss Pataki. You've been assigned to physical and meditation therapy in the form of yoga."

Helga bit into her cheek. "I have to go to freaking _yoga?_ How often?"

"Five days a week for three months, with one mandatory meditation practice every other week." Helga groaned into the phone. "Since you don't have a job, or participate in sports or clubs, you have enough time to fit this into your busy schedule. Your instructor will sign a time sheet for you at the end of each practice."

Helga leaned into her desk chair, smacking her hands onto the tabletop. "And what if I refuse to do this?"

"Well, you would be put on a minor academic suspension, with two weeks of community service instead of attendance in class."

"But if I miss that many classes, I'd lose my scholarships!"

"Exactly, Miss Pataki. We all want to help you, and we all agree that this will be a life-changing experience." There was a pause. "I will be e-mailing you the yoga studio information."

Helga hung up the phone by throwing it at her painted cinderblock wall. The flip phone snapped in half, chipping off some of the white paint in the process. "Criminiy," she mumbled. She reached over to her desk and opened her laptop, scanning her campus e-mail inbox. She knew that the Dean was serious, and that if she failed to attend even one class without a written death certificate she'd be in even more trouble.

* * *

To: hgpataki at hillwoodu . edu

From: anderson at hillwoodu . edu

Subject: Yoga Studio Information

* * *

HILLWOOD YOGA STUDIO  
331 East 8th St  
Suite B

Class Schedule:

Monday - Friday:

7:00 am - 8:00 am Vinyasa - Mary  
9:15 am - 10:45 am Vinyasa - Andrew & HYS Intern  
12:00 pm- 1:00 pm Vinyasa - Kristen  
4:00 pm - 5:00 pm Vinyasa - Danielle & HYS Intern  
5:30 pm - 6:30 pm Vinyasa - Mary  
*7:00 pm - 8:00 pm Meditation - Juliette

(*=Not available on Wednesdays)

Saturday - Sunday

7:00 - 8:00 am Vinyasa - Andrew  
9:15 - 10:30 am Vinyasa - Kristen  
12:00 pm - 1:00 pm Vinyasa - Danielle  
2:30 pm - 3:30 pm Meditation - Juliette

Wednesday:

7:00 pm - 8:00 pm Vinyasa Basics - Juliette & HYS Intern

* * *

Be sure to have your instructor sign the attached Attendance Sheet after each class. You are required to attend five classes for twelve weeks, with five additional meditation classes.

Class payments and equipment are covered by the college's counseling budget. A stipend of $1000 is availble for your pick up tomorrow at the Health Center.

Good luck, Helga.

Dean Anderson  
Hillwood University  
anderson at hillwoodu . edu  
Bell Tower Buildling, Office 202

* * *

Helga sighed. Tomorrow was Monday and she had four classes until 1 in the afternoon. Plus, she'd have to go to the mall and get real workout clothes. At the very least, a sports bra.

She closed her laptop as her roommate's keychain fumbled against the doorknob. The doors were surprisingly hollow and it was easy to hear everything from inside the room.

"Hey, Helga," she mumbled between bites of an apple. She dropped her backpack on her deskchair and kicked off her shoes, hitting the blinds and the window. "Whoops."

Helga's roommate Alex was the only person she could tolerate. Alex was from New York, looking for a change of city but still wanted a downtown area with a coffeeshop on every corner. Alex had half of her brunette head shaved, revealing an intricate pattern of freckles and moles from childhood. She wore fake brightly colored plastic glasses, even though she had a heavy contact lens prescription. Her sense of style was always changing and she never stayed in their room for long.

Hillwood U's campus spread across the downtown, with the freshman dormitories near the local bus station for easy transportation. Helga had grown up around each of the buildings, knew how long it took to get from the Herman Mathematics Building on 5th Street to Grandview English on 14th (20 minutes if you hustled). She recognized the school's insignia on many of the apartment buildings and local shops.

Helga thought about being a commuter student, but realized that meant it would involve _living at home._ So she applied for a housing scholarship. Big Bob had begrudgingly agreed to give her a monthly food budget, since she opted out of the campus provided meal plan. The more money she could save Bob the better.

"You're steaming," Alex pointed to the chip in the wall. "What happened?"

"I was offically punished. And it's not pretty."

"Oh, are you suspended? Expelled?"

Helga laughed, "I wish. It's much worse." Alex cleaned off her bed, tossing Helga her broken remains of a phone. "I have mandated yoga classes. Those crocks in admin think I need to relax."

Alex burst into laughter. "That's the best thing I've heard all day."

Helga threw her phone back at Alex in retaliation.

* * *

FACEBOOK 

**Helga Pataki:** The good ol' dinosaur of a flip phone has finally become extinct. If you need to reach me: don't.

10 Likes - 2 Comments

- **Rhonda Wellington Lloyd** : If you need a phone from this century, let me know! I have a ton of old smart phones.

- **Helga Pataki** : My dad owns an electronic shop, Rhon. I'm fine.

* * *

Alex was always up early to finish the homework she never did for class, so Helga was used to having the morning to herself. Luckily her first class was at 9:30, so she could manage to sleep in until 8:30 or 9 before running out the door.

Helga had a fitfull night's sleep, dreaming of all of the horrors that could befall her at her first yoga class. Her anxiety over something so incredibly stupid was completely unwarrented, and she knew that, but it didn't stop the little voice in her head from lisiting all problems. She could show up late, bring the wrong equipment, be seen as weak, fall over in a pose-or even worse, pass gas as she stretched. She'd spent the night reading Yoga Class Horror Stories on a bunch of women's magazine websites.

Helga picked up her check after her last class, glaring at the Health Services receptionist the entire time. "Enjoy your classes," she smiled.

"Yeah, yeah," Helga said as she put her headphones back into her ears. Her old 4th generation iPod was still functioning, although for how much longer, Helga wasn't sure.

Helga had written down what the Hillwood Yoga Studio website recommended for each class: tight-fitting, flexible clothing, secured hair, a face towel, a yoga mat, yoga blocks, yoga strap, and water bottle. And she'd need at least five outifts, which she imagined would cost a lot.

The Sports Supply Store was having a Yoga Studio special, with all of their outdated and unfashionable apparel on sale for 75% off. Helga looked at the racks of bright, patterned, spandex-like clothing and sighed. She picked out all black pants and gray and white tank tops with built in support for her chest. She grabbed a random yoga mat from the shelf, which included a strap to carry it and use in practice. She grabbed a pink foam block and matching sweatband before hurrying to the counter.

The man at the register took his time scanning each item individually while Helga looked around anxiously. The last thing she needed was someone seeing her.

The sensor at the front of the store went off. Helga turned her head to see the last person in the world she ever wanted to run into.

"Oh, wow, hey Helga!"

She grit her teeth, cheeks flushing pink as she turned to face-"Football Head."

He was drenched in sweat, clad in short athletic shorts and a sleeveless blue workout shirt. His hair was matted down to his forehead and neck. Helga struggled to keep her gaze upwards, practically melting into her knees at the thought of him working out shirtless. Arnold held a broken arm band in his hands, used to hold his cell phone as he ran. "It's amazing-of all the places to run into you!"

She felt her voice shake as she turned to face him, "Yeah, good thing you didn't _actually_ run into me. If I had left any sooner we'd both be ass first onto the sidewalk."

He grinned, cheeks red from exertion. "How're classes treating you?"

"Fine."

The employee had finsihed bagging her things. Helga handed over her credit card without waiting to hear the total, hoping the shake of her wrist would go away. She grabbed the first bag off the counter and pushed past him, "Well, it's been great seeing you. Football Head. I'll catch you later."

"Wait-"

Helga was out the door.

* * *

She hadn't stopped shaking in almost two hours. It didn't help that she'd just finished a macchiato at the cafe next to the yoga studio, but her heart was racing from more than caffeine. She hadn't seen Arnold, or anyone from high school, really, since graduation.

She never found out what Arnold's plans were for college. He never shared them with anyone, not even their college guidance counselor. Arnold had graduated with a very high GPA and won an award for his final English Essay, which were all mentioned in the graduation program. As Helga thought more about it, she remembered seeing his college of choice blank.

What was he up to?

It was so easy to ignore her feelings and boxing them away into fleeting moments of wanting when he was out of sight. But now he had clearly been in sight and she felt like she was free falling from the top of the Future Tech Industries skyscraper.

Helga's body jumped at a car door slamming across the street. She glanced at her watch, realizing it was almost time for her first class. She shrugged her bag of goodies onto her shoulder, knocking into a couple's table with her rolled up mat. She muttered an apology under her breath.

The studio smelled of sweat and burning vanilla incense. The woman behind the receptionist counter grinned, her blonde ponytail bouncing. "Welcome to Hillwood Yoga Studio. Have you been here before?"

Helga dropped her stuff to her feet, "No."

"Great! Well we have a new student special, or are you here for a drop in class?"

"New student."

She smiled again, clicking the studio computer to life. "Alrighty, well being a new student means you get half-off the membership fee and unlimited classes for your first month!" Helga nodded. "That'll be $40."

Helga reached into her wallet, only to realize her credit card wasn't there. "Oh, fuck!"

"Excuse me?"

"My credit card! I left it at the sports place-" Helga turned towards the door, then back to the receptionist. "I absolutely have the money, and I am not trying to scrimp out of paying, but I left my credit card at the store where I bought all this stuff." She pointed to the yoga mat. "Can I pay after class? I'll even leave you something as collateral."

"Okay, sure. Just let me give you this form to fill out. I'll take your collateral," she smiled. Helga handed over her small pink notebook, the most valuable thing she owned, as she lifted up the clipboard.

It was a standard set of forms: Name, Address and the like, Any Experience at Yoga?, Injury Waiver, Permission to be Touched by Instructor. Helga signed off on the last sheet and handed it back. "Alright, well let me just get you set up in our online system. This is your sign in key," a small plastic piece attached to a key ring, "so if we're ever busy at the desk, you can just wave it in front of our scanner and be signed in for class." The receptionist scanned it and Helga's name popped up on the screen. "Enjoy your first class with us!"

Helga walked to the bathroom and changed as quickly as she could. She just wanted this day to end. She was still shaken up about seeing Arnold.

Helga took off her shoes before entering the incredibly hot studio. The floor was a soft wood, padded to absorb shock and be easier to move on. The room was heated to at least 90 degrees and it was stifiling, especially on a summer day like this. There were hooks by the window at the back of the studio for people's things. Helga hung up her stuff, juggling her block, strap, towel, water bottle and mat. She faced the room-women and a few men were all spread out on their mats, stretching, breathing, or talking to their neighbor.

Helga chose a spot in the back corner against the wall, hoping that no one would notice her.

A tall, tanned, rail-thin woman in a bright orange tank top stood at the front of the room, small microphone attached to her ear. "Alright, hello everyone. I see some new faces, so I'll introduce myself. I'm Danielle and welcome to your Vinyasa yoga practice. I just want to say congratulations on doing the most important part of any yoga practice, which is showing up." A few of the students chuckled. Helga groaned.

"To start, I want everyone to get into Child's Pose, so take your knees wide across your mat, get your big toes to touch, and then press your forehead into your mat. Your forehead is the most important part, as it acts as your third eye and lets you focus inwards."

Helga felt her hips stretch and tighten as she bent forwards, arms outstreched across her mat.

"I want everyone to take a few deep breaths and really sink into the tops of your feet."

Helga felt sweat build at the back of her neck. She was barely two minutes in! _I am going to die,_ she thought as she exhaled through her nose.

"Vinyasa is about focusing on your breath in each pose. So now I want everyone to rise to Tabletop, knees hip-width distance, arms shoulder length apart. Keep your spine neutral and long," Helga felt a hand press deep into her back, moving her spine forwards to straighten. Her shoulderblades dug into her back in surprise, causing a painful arch. A wam hand pressed into her stomach and pulled her belly in, tightening her core back into a more neutral pose. Her shoulderblades sunk back and pulled her chest forward again.

She let her eyes drop to her mat, only to see her credit card sitting in between her hands.

* * *

Helga blacked out.

Not _really,_ but she suffered through tunnel vision throughout the rest of practice. Her breathing was irregular and impossible to control. Her muscles began shaking even before moving into downward dog. Her entire body ached in a terribly good way-a satisfaction she hadn't felt since she finished running a mile in five minutes during high school physical education. She hadn't stretched herself out in years.

But none of that mattered because _Arnold had touched her_.

Helga remained rooted to her mat after the practice ended. She wasn't sure she could stand.

"Are you okay?" Danielle asked. Helga nodded. "You had a great first practice. I noticed on your form you said you'd never practiced yoga before. You're very flexible."

"T-thanks," she replied.

"It will take some time to get the flow and poses perfect, but you responded well to our intern's instruction."

"Yeah. Actually, uh, I need to pay for my classes. So, if you'll excuse me," Hegla hoisted herself off her knees, grabbing her mat and letting it drag across the sweat-covered floor.

 _Arnold is a yoga instructor._ Helga's heart felt like it was ringing in her chest.

The receptionist smiled as she swiped the credit card. Helga signed the receipt, hardly able to focus. "Don't forget the rest of your stuff!" Danielle shouted as she shut the bathroom door.

Helga turned on her heel, only to stop short. Arnold was mopping the floor. And she was the only other person in the room.

"Hey, Helga! You did amazing today." He set the mop against the window and met her next to her bags. "Danielle said you'd never done this before?"

"N-no," she cleared her throat. "Never."

"Well, you were great. You have such a strong handle on your breath. I was impressed." Her cheeks flushed red. _Oh, my god._ "Will you be back tomorrow? Because I only assist during the 4 pm classes."

"I actually have class until 4:30," she shrugged, "so I'll try to come early." _Or never again._

"That's great! I'm so glad you're doing this, Helga. I really love yoga. It's helped me so much in my life, you know, helped me become more focused."

"Yeah. I'm hoping for the same."

Arnold smiled, feeling his chest tighten with excitement. He had been dying to have a friend to practice with, or at least someone closer to his age at the studio. It was mostly older women and men in their late thirties who were members or instructors. They'd spend time before and after class talking about their children and their work schedules. Arnold couldn't relate.

"Well," Helga picked up her backpack and new yoga clothes, "I guess I'll see you around, Football Head."

"Wait, Helga. Do you want a ride home?"

Helga felt her knees shaking. Maybe she did need to rest.

No.

She had to get the hell out of there.

"I'm okay, Arnold. It's just a few blocks to my dorm."

"Are you sure? It's really no trouble."

"Really. I'm fine."

She was no where near fine.


	3. Warrior I

**Yogatta Be Kidding Me!**

 **Chapter Two: Warrior I**

* * *

The Warrior I pose ( _virabhadrasana I_ ) is a lunge with both feet planted firmly on the mat. The front foot faces forwards and the back foot is turned perpendicular to the edge of the mat. It is important to keep hips alligned, with hands raised above the head.

Challenge Your Pose: Try to take a back bend and hold it for three breaths.

* * *

Arnold waved goodbye to Danielle and exited through the back door of the studio. He unlocked the Packard door and dropped his bag into the passenger seat. His shoulders sank into the seat as he started the car. He found his posture improved over the past year of his practice, but it still helped that he could relax in the orthopedically padded seat his grandpa had installed before giving Arnold the car.

Grandpa couldn't drive anymore, so Arnold spent most of his days off driving him around, or running errands for him. Grandma wasn't as active with her imagination as she used to be-at least, not after her stroke four years ago. Arnold had just started high school, was preparring to spend the day at Gerald Field playing a pick up game with the guys when his cell phone rang. He ran the ten miles to the hospital, stopping only to vomit out of nerves and exhaustion on mile seven.

It was hard to accept the fact that they were growing older. His guardians were, technically, no longer legally necessary. . .but they were family. His only family, really, and their age was becoming a burden he couldn't ignore. Every time he silenced his cell phone at the studio, he worried he would miss an emergency call.

The other borders tried to help out, tried to assist in any way they could.

Oskar started to pay rent on time to minimize Phil's stress, and agreed to stay home three days a week, take care of the pets, help with household tasks. Mr. Hyunh had been promoted to assistant chef at the restaurant and worked very flexible hours, always bringing home a hot meal. Arnold couldn't remember the last time anyone else had cooked. The pots and pans had begun collecting dust in the cabinets.

Ernie began doing all of the household repairs, free of charge. He'd begun his own contracting and construction company, and worked from home three days a week. With both Oskar and Ernie around the house, Arnold could start a full time job. He and Susie would greet each other in the morning as they went off to work by making breakfast together, one making coffee, the other toast.

After an afternoon of at the yoga studio, Arnold worked a night shift as a security guard at the Trust Bank downtown, from 8 pm until 6 am. Then he'd practiced yoga on the Sunset Arms roof at 6:30 to greet the sunrise, then he'd get his two hours of sleep, waking up at 8:30. He'd shower, get dressed, and head to Miss Vitello's flower shop by 9 am. After she broke her hip, she asked Arnold if he could assit in running the shop and coordinating deliveries. Miss Vitello's nephew also helped at the shop so Arnold could instruct at the studios during the week at 4, and on Wednesday night Beginners classes. Arnold was hoping to earn his yoga instructor certification from the studio, which would give him the freedom to travel and teach at different studios.

If he could just bring himself to leave home.

Arnold parked at the neighborhood parking garage, waving at the secutiry guard. He smiled as Arnold offered him the last of his hot coffee. "Thanks, Arnold! How've you been?"

"Busy," he smiled and adjusted his uniform's tie. At a distance, he appeared to be a police officer. Dark navy slacks, black shoes, navy shirt, black tie, an assortment of badges, and a heavy leather holster on his hips. Arnold wasn't licensed to carry a weapon, since it required over forty hours of training classes. He was the youngest, and only, guard unarmed at the bank. Arnold spent most of his nights at the front teller's desks, making sure none of the employees were stealing or short-changing customers. He worked with strong older men who carried handguns, tasers, and nightsticks.

Arnold walked across the street and down the block to the bank. He went to the employee entrance and entered his personal code (118*) and swiped his ID badge. The door unlocked and Arnold waved at the officer who ran the metal dectector and gun checkpoint. She smiled. Arnold's shoes still squeaked on the marble floor, but all of the officers recognized his footsteps. There was never much noise at night, other than the low hum of a radio or hushed whispers of the men.

Arnold sat down at the first teller's desk and began counting.

* * *

 _Take a deep breath in. Plant your feet, reach your arms up. Stretch. Inhale. Hold it. Exhale. Stretch. Hold it._

Arnold felt the sweat drip down his forehead as he bent his back towards the floor. He had begun taking a deeper back bend in his Warrior I pose, hoping it would inspire him to see his practice from a new, fresh perspective.

Arnold kept his eyes focused on his outstretched hands, flexing his fingers to make sure his entire body was awake and moving.

The sun had just started to change the color of the sky, from a lovely pink to a deep blue, but Arnold could only feel the sun beating on his exposed and stretched abdomen.

Arnold controlled his release in the pose, breathing deeply as he straightened his spine. He returned to his deep lunge, turning his body into Warrior II, which has his feet remain in the same position, but his hips and upper body turned to the left, with his arms stretched out into a 'T' shape. Arnold groaned as his shoulderblades set deep into his back. Sweat dropped down his flexed abdomen.

He had seen some of the women watch him in class. He was young, flexible, and strong. He was always courteous, chilvarious, and helpful to the women. He helped them carry their bags to their cars, or walked them to the parking garage a few blocks away. He never flirted with them like Instructor Andrew did.

But he had to admit, yoga was certainly helping his body. He had always been active and fit, even when he didn't play school sports, but yoga forced his core to be constantly engaged, and over the past year, he had seen a small set of abs emerge. He had never been self-conscious of his body, and even grew into his head more than he expected.

 _Football Head._

Helga's voice jarred him out of his _chaturanga_ (high plank) causing his wrists to give out and forehead meet the ground. He laughed as he bent into Child's Pose to catch his breath.

He pushed up into Downward Dog, his body in an upside-down V, and lifted his right leg, hoping to open up the musles in his hips before his hour of personal practice was over.

* * *

"Hello, Arnold," Susie smiled as she handed him a to-go mug of coffee.

"Morning," he replied.

"Did you fall this morning during your session?" Susie didn't look up from the counter. She buttered her toast before adding strawberry jam. Arnold picked a plain piece and bit into it. He always found himself avoiding strawberries, but he couldn't remember why. He knew his grandfather had always said "Never eat raspberries," but he'd never mentioned strawberries.

"Yeah, sorry, my wrists gave out. Did I make a lot of noise?"

"Just shook the chandelier is all," she smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Right," Arnold grabbed his car keys off the hook by the back door and followed Suisie outside.

Arnold didn't drive to Miss Vitello's, but he always needed to be sure that the keys were outside of the house. If Gertie ever found them, she would certainly go on a joy ride. Ernie was the only other person with permission from Phil to drive the car, and he kept a spare key taped to the bottom of his bed frame.

Arnold searched his key ring for a few minutes until he found the right key for the back door. He was expecting a big delivery of sunflowers later this morning, but for the next hour all he had to do was water the plants. He was hoping no customers would stop this afternoon by so he could take a small nap in the back.

Arnold checked his cell phone for the first time all night. He had a text message from Allie, the receptionist at the Yoga Studio. UR FRIEND HELGA LEFT HER NOTEBOOK. CAN'T GET A HOLD OF HER. WILL U MAKE SURE SHE GETS IT?

Arnold replied, "YES. SEE YOU LATER." before booting up the old desktop on Miss Vitello's desk. Well, it was Arnold's desk now, since she only came into the shop to make special arrangements for the vases. The monitor slowly hummed to life, greeting him with a loud and outdated YOU'VE GOT MAIL message. 30 NEW MESSAGES blinked on the screen. Arnold sighed and began digging through his inbox. _Only six more hours until yoga._

* * *

Helga hardly slept. Her entire life was suddenly out of order, and over what? _Arnold?_

No. She was not going to let her little crush get in the way of her moving on and growing up. She had moved on since her obsession. She had tried, and failed clearly, to move on from Arnold. There had been dates, and one disastrous attempt at a relationship, since her time as a P.S. 118 student. The high school had almost 4,000 students. Except Helga could never really find any boy that made her feel anythingexcept contempt. . . .No. Arnold was a part of her past. Her not-so-distant high school past. He was _Arnold_ for Mighty Pete's sake! He was always a responsible goody-two-shoes with his nose in everyone's business and he was sweet and kind.

 _And he looked so_ good _in those running shorts. . ._ _No, Helga, focus._ Helga gently smacked her cheeks a few times to bring herself back. She was in her Introduction to Sociology class, trying to take notes on some stupid reading she didn't do yesterday, when all she could feel was his hand pressing into her stomach.

 _Oh, God. I'm screwed._

Helga's favorite class was Introduction to Poetry, meeting Tuesdays and Thursdays from 3:00 until 4:30. She loved studying the art of poetics, even though she'd been writing for nine years, she felt more empowered once she began learning more and more about form, motifs, similies and metaphors. Of course, she learned some of it in high school, but this was _college._ Everything was more significant here.

Helga had an uncomfortable thought nagging at the back of her head since yesterday. It wasn't anything bad-just a fog in her head. She knew she'd forgotten her credit card in her rush out of the sports store, but she felt like she was forgetting something else. She knew it wasn't Phoebe's birthday, or any significant date in Olga's life. . . so what was it?

She opened up her backpack, unzipping the secret compartment reserved for her poetry notebook, when it hit her.

 _Sonofabitch!_ Helga set her jaw tight. Her assignments for today's class were in there. Now she was going to get a failing grade.

Unless. . .

Helga looked at the clock. Class began in five minutes. If she left now, ran to the studio, grabbed the notebook, and ran back she'd be back by 3:15 at the latest. She'd get a tardy, but she could explain everything to her professor at her office hours. She could do it. She was Miss Five Minute Mile after all.

Helga stood up and ran.

* * *

Okay, so running from 22nd to 8th St. wasn't her smartest idea. The distance wasn't exactly a mile, but she definitley sprinted the last three blocks back to campus. She made it into her classroom at 3:20. She was definitley slower than she was in high school.

Her professor grinned at Helga's entrance, her discombobulated and frantic nature. "So happy to see you join us, Miss Pataki."

"Sorry Professor," Helga took the empty desk closest to the door and opened up her notebook.

"Now, back to what I was saying about rhythm and _timing,"_ her professor turned to the whiteboard and began writing out different metric patterns for differet types of poems.

After class, Helga waited at her desk. She approached her professor after everyone left, "I am so sorry about that, Professor."

Sandra Sampson smiled. She was in her early thirties, with a small career of nationally published poetry collections. She had traveled all over the world during her undergraduate and graduate career, which was expressed through tattoos that she hid under sheer clothing and long dresses. She'd been teaching for almost ten years, and never in her time had she seen someone with the same unbridled passion as Helga Pataki. Sandra brushed the dry erase board marker off her hands, "What happened?"

"I left my notebook at the yoga studio-"

"It's okay, Helga. You're not in trouble."

Helga felt a weight collapse off her shoulders. "Really?"

"No. I know how meditation can be for writing, so it's easy to see why you were so inspired. Honestly, I hope your writing becomes even more prolific and profound with your new practice."

Helga forced a smile. _Of course,_ she thought. "I will let you know what happens."

Helga decided that she preferred to watch the women entering the yoga studio instead of going in herself. She set herself up at the coffeeshop, at the far corner by the window, so she had the perfect angle to see the mothers entering the studio. Most wore very tight patterened pants, which she was sure they'd been in all day.

The 5:30 class was almost twice as full as the 4:00, which Helga was happy about. The more people, the easier she could just blend in.

After plopping herself in the far corner in the second row of mats, Helga sighed. This was going to be a long, difficult class. Her collarbones and shoulders were in a lot of pain, with muscles she hadn't used since she was a kid playing baseball in the vacant lot. Helga took a deep breath and sat on her heels, waiting for the instructor to turn off the meditation music and begin.

The good news was that Arnold was no where near the studio now. Helga exhaled again through her nose, feeling her back relax slightly.

"Alright, good afternoon class. I'm Mary and I'm so excited for you all to be here today. Let's start in Child's Pose." Helga spread her knees wide, taking a deep breath to take the focus off the stiffness in her hips. She had never realized how unstretched her inner thighs were. "Keep your forehead on your mat and roll your head back and forth. I want you to get all of the tension out of your eyebrows. Then I want you to come to stillness. Set your intention for your class today. Your I Am Statement. 'I am enough.' 'I am strong.' Whatever you need to help meditate on."

Helga thought, _I am okay,_ knowing it was the best she would come up with until this punishment was over.

"Now I want everyone to rise up to Tabletop. We'll do a few Cat and Cow poses." In order to open up the collarbones, it was important to move your spine and lower back. Helga focused on breathing in, pulling her neck and stomach inwards for Cow pose. On her exhale she stretched her head and spine upwards, arching her back into Cat pose.

She wondered why more guys didn't do yoga. Helga could only see a sea of women's toned asses in front of her.

"I want to hear everyone breathing! If you can't hear your partner, breathe for them!"

Helga sighed, hoping that it counted as an audible breath.

"Alright, come to stillness. I want you to roll back into Downward Dog."

Helga pushed up. A true Downward Dog position was achieved when a person's heels were flat against the mat, but Helga could hardly keep anything but her toes down. She kept her knees bent, her palms pressed deeply into the mat. "Raise your right leg and plant it between your hands. Rise up to Warrior I."

Helga's balance was off, and she found herself falling forwards for most of her lunges. The sun salutation cycle continued, beginning at the _chaturanga,_ before transitioning into Upward Facing Dog, which involved suspending her entire body off the mat and only allowing her hands and the tops of her feet touching. "I want you to really open your chest. Push forwards," Mary said. Helga's lower back ached. From Upward Facing Dog, everyone moved to Downward Facing Dog. The transition to Warrior I was still hesitant and awkward for Helga. She was unable to really stretch tall when it was all she could do not to fall down.

The class was a struggle.

Helga's right knee gave out during Tree pose, which has one foot pressing into the opposite thigh, the other foot rooted onto the mat for balance. Helga fell onto her sweaty foam, her cheeks flushed from a combination of strain and embarrassment. This was _yoga_ for crying out loud. Wasn't it supposed to be easy?


End file.
